Arthur Rimbaud
Novel by Arthur Rimbaud

Novel by Arthur Rimbaud

I. No one's serious at seventeen. --On beautiful nights when beer and lemonade And loud, blinding cafes are the last thing you need --You stroll beneath green lindens on the ...

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Drunken Morning by Arthur Rimbaud

Drunken Morning by Arthur Rimbaud

Oh, my Beautiful! Oh, my Good! Hideous fanfare where yet I do not stumble! Oh, rack of enchantments! For the first time, hurrah for the unheard-of work, For the marvelous body! ...

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Sentences (Phrases) by Arthur Rimbaud

Sentences (Phrases) by Arthur Rimbaud

When the world is reduced to a single dark wood for our four eyes' astonishment,-- a beach for two faithful children,-- a musical house for one pure sympathy,-- I shall find you. ...

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Being Beauteous by Arthur Rimbaud

Being Beauteous by Arthur Rimbaud

Against a fall of snow, a Being Beauiful, and very tall.Whistlings of death and circles of faint musicMake this adored body, swelling and tremblingLike a specter, rise...Black and ...

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A Winter Dream by Arthur Rimbaud

A Winter Dream by Arthur Rimbaud

In winter we’ll travel in a little pink carriageWith cushions of blue.We’ll be fine. A nest of mad kisses waitsIn each corner too.You’ll shut your eyes, not to see, through the ...

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Sensation by Arthur Rimbaud

Sensation by Arthur Rimbaud

In the blue summer evenings, I will go along the paths, And walk over the short grass, as I am pricked by the wheat: Daydreaming I will feel the coolness on my feet.I will let the ...

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The Seven Year Old Poet by Arthur Rimbaud

The Seven Year Old Poet by Arthur Rimbaud

And so the Mother, shutting up the duty book, Went, proud and satisfied. She did not see the look In the blue eyes, or how with secret loathing wild, Beneath the prominent brow, a ...

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After The Flood by Arthur Rimbaud

After The Flood by Arthur Rimbaud

As soon as the idea of the Deluge had subsided, A hare stopped in the clover and swaying flowerbells, and said a prayer to the rainbow, through the spider's web. Oh! the precious ...

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Dawn by Arthur Rimbaud

Dawn by Arthur Rimbaud

I have kissed the summer dawn. Before the palaces, nothing moved. The water lay dead. Battalions of shadows still kept the forest road. I walked, walking warm and vital breath, ...

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Asleep In The Valley by Arthur Rimbaud

Asleep In The Valley by Arthur Rimbaud

A small green valley where a slow stream flowsAnd leaves long strands of silver on the brightGrass; from the mountaintop stream the Sun'sRays; they fill the hollow full of light.A ...

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First Evening (Premiere Soiree) by Arthur Rimbaud

First Evening (Premiere Soiree) by Arthur Rimbaud

Her clothes were almost off;Outside, a curious treeBeat a branch at the windowTo see what it could see.Perched on my enormous easy chair,Half nude, she clasped her hands.Her feet ...

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Barbarian by Arthur Rimbaud

Barbarian by Arthur Rimbaud

Long after the days and the seasons, and people and countries. The banner of raw meat against the silk of seas and arctic flowers; (they do not exist). Recovered from the old ...

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At The Green Inn, Five In The Evening (Au Cabaret-Vert, Cinq Heures Du Soir) by Arthur Rimbaud

At The Green Inn, Five In The Evening (Au Cabaret-Vert, Cinq Heures Du Soir) by Arthur Rimbaud

For a whole week I had ripped up my boots on the stones of the roads. I walked into Charleroi. -Into the Green Inn: I asked for some slices of bread and butter, and some ...

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Departure by Arthur Rimbaud

Departure by Arthur Rimbaud

Everything seen...The vision gleams in every air. Everything had... The far sound of cities, in the evening, In sunlight, and always. Everything known... O Tumult! O Visions! ...

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Lines, An Excerpt From by Arthur Rimbaud

Lines, An Excerpt From by Arthur Rimbaud

When the world comes down to this one dark woodBefore our four astonished eyes...To a beach for two faithful children...To a house of music, for our clear accord...I will find ...

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The Drunken Boat by Arthur Rimbaud

The Drunken Boat by Arthur Rimbaud

As I drifted on a river I could not control,No longer guided by the bargemen's ropes.They were captured by howling IndiansWho nailed them naked to coloured posts.I cared no more ...

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Biography by Arthur Rimbaud

Biography by Arthur Rimbaud

Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891) Jean Nicolas Arthur Rimbaud, a French poet, was born Oct.20,1854, in Charleville. His childhood was marred by a 'cantankerous and vindictive' mother ...

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Side Show by Arthur Rimbaud

Side Show by Arthur Rimbaud

Very sturdy rogues. Several have exploited your worlds. With no needs, and in no hurryto make use of their brilliant faculties and their knowledge of your conveniences. What ripe ...

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Stolen Heart by Arthur Rimbaud

Stolen Heart by Arthur Rimbaud

My sad heart slobbers at the poopmy heart covered with tobacco-spitThey spew streams of soup at itMy sad heart drools at the poopUnder the jeerings of the soldierswho break out ...

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Ophelia by Arthur Rimbaud

Ophelia by Arthur Rimbaud

IOn the calm black water where the stars are sleepingWhite Ophelia floats like a great lily ;Floats very slowly, lying in her long veils…- In the far-off woods you can hear them ...

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Memory by Arthur Rimbaud

Memory by Arthur Rimbaud

I. Clear water; like the salt of a child's tears, the whiteness of women's bodies attacking the sun; silken, in masses and pure lily, banners under the walls a maiden defended; ...

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Evil by Arthur Rimbaud

Evil by Arthur Rimbaud

While the red-stained mouths of machine guns ringAcross the infinite expanse of day; While red or green, before their posturing King, The massed battalions break and melt away; ...

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Eternity by Arthur Rimbaud

Eternity by Arthur Rimbaud

It has been found again. What ? - Eternity. It is the sea fled away With the sun. Sentinel soul, Let us whisper the confession Of the night full of nothingness And the day on ...

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Anguish by Arthur Rimbaud

Anguish by Arthur Rimbaud

Is it possible that She will have me forgiven for ambitions continually crushed,-- that an affluent end will make up for the ages of indigence,-- that a day of success will lull ...

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Dance Of The Hanged Men by Arthur Rimbaud

Dance Of The Hanged Men by Arthur Rimbaud

On the black gallows, one-armed friend,The paladins are dancing, dancingThe lean, the devil's paladinsThe skeletons of Saladins.Sir Beelzebub pulls by the scruffHis little black ...

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The Parisian Orgy by Arthur Rimbaud

The Parisian Orgy by Arthur Rimbaud

O cowards! There she is! Pile out into the stations! The sun with its fiery lungs blew clear the boulevards that, one evening, the Barbarians filled. Here is the holy City, seated ...

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Childhood by Arthur Rimbaud

Childhood by Arthur Rimbaud

I. That idol, black eyes and yellow mop, without parents or court, nobler than Mexican and Flemish fables; his domain, insolent azure and verdure, runs over beaches called by the ...

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Nina’s Reply (Les Reparties De Nina) by Arthur Rimbaud

Nina’s Reply (Les Reparties De Nina) by Arthur Rimbaud

HE - Your breast on my breast,Eh ? We could go,With our nostrils full of air,Into the cool lightOf the blue good morning that bathes youIn the wine of daylight ?…When the whole ...

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City by Arthur Rimbaud

City by Arthur Rimbaud

I am an ephemeral and a not too discontented citizen of a metropolis considered modern because all known taste has been evaded in the furnishings and the exterior of the houses as ...

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Evening Prayer by Arthur Rimbaud

Evening Prayer by Arthur Rimbaud

I spend my life sitting - like an angel in the hands of a barber - a deeply fluted beer mug in my fist, belly and neck curved, a Gambier pipe in my teeth, under the air swelling ...

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Romance by Arthur Rimbaud

Romance by Arthur Rimbaud

When you are seventeen you aren't really serious.- One fine evening, you've had enough of beer and lemonade,And the rowdy cafes with their dazzling lights!- You go walking beneath ...

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Conclusion by Arthur Rimbaud

Conclusion by Arthur Rimbaud

The pigeons which flutter in the meadow, the game which runs and sees in the dark, the water animals, the animal enslaved, the last butterflies!.. also are thirsty. But to ...

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Movement by Arthur Rimbaud

Movement by Arthur Rimbaud

A winding movement on the slope beside the rapids of the river.The abyss at the stern, The swiftness of the incline, The overwhelming passage of the tide, With extraordinary ...

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Flowers by Arthur Rimbaud

Flowers by Arthur Rimbaud

From a golden step,-- among silk cords, green velvets, gray gauzes, and crystal disks that turn black as bronze in the sun, I see the digitalis opening on a carpet of silver ...

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Bottom by Arthur Rimbaud

Bottom by Arthur Rimbaud

Reality being too thorny for my great personality. --I found myself nevertheless at my lady's, an enormous gray-blue bird soaring toward the moldings of the ceiling and trailing ...

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Fairy by Arthur Rimbaud

Fairy by Arthur Rimbaud

For Helen, in the virgin shadows and the impassive radiance in astral silence, ornamental saps conspired. Summer's ardour was confided to silent birds and due indolence to a ...

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Common Nocturne by Arthur Rimbaud

Common Nocturne by Arthur Rimbaud

A breath opens operatic breaches in the walls,-- blurs the pivoting of crumbling roofs,-- disperses the boundaries of hearths,-- eclipses the windows. Along the vine, having ...

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Faun’s Head by Arthur Rimbaud

Faun’s Head by Arthur Rimbaud

Among the foliage, green casket flecked with gold; in the uncertain foliage that blossoms with gorgeous flowers where sleeps the kiss, vivid, and bursting through the sumptuous ...

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Brussels by Arthur Rimbaud

Brussels by Arthur Rimbaud

Boulevard du Regent July Flowerbeds of amaranths right up to The pleasant palace of Jupiter. - I know it is Thou, who is this place, Minglest thine almost Saharan Blue ! Then, ...

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My Bohemian Existence by Arthur Rimbaud

My Bohemian Existence by Arthur Rimbaud

I went off with my hands in my torn coat pockets; my overcoat too was becoming ideal;I travelled beneath the sky, Muse! and I was your vassal;Oh dear me! what marvellous loves I ...

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Hunger by Arthur Rimbaud

Hunger by Arthur Rimbaud

I only find within my bones, A taste for eating earth and stones. When I feed, I feed on air, Rocks and coals and iron ore. My hunger, turn. Hunger, feed: A field of bran.Gather ...

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The Song Of The Highest Tower by Arthur Rimbaud

The Song Of The Highest Tower by Arthur Rimbaud

1. (From: Fetes de la Patience)Idle YouthBy all things enslavedThrough sensitivityI’ve wasted my days.Ah! Let the moment comeWhen hearts love as one.I told myself: waitAnd let no ...

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Cities Vagabonds by Arthur Rimbaud

Cities Vagabonds by Arthur Rimbaud

These are cities! And this is the people for whom these Alleghenys and Lebanons of dream have been raised! Castles of wood and crystal move on tracks and invisible winches. Old ...

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Blackcurrant River by Arthur Rimbaud

Blackcurrant River by Arthur Rimbaud

Blackcurrant river rolls unknown in strange valleys; the voices of a hundred rooks go with it, the true benevolent voice of angles: with the wide movements of the fir woods when ...

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Antique by Arthur Rimbaud

Antique by Arthur Rimbaud

Gracious son of Pan! Around your foreheadcrowned with flowerets and with laurel, restlessly roll those precious balls, your eyes. Spotted with brown lees, your cheeks are hollow. ...

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The Poor Man Dreams by Arthur Rimbaud

The Poor Man Dreams by Arthur Rimbaud

Perhaps an Evening awaits me when I shall drink I peace in some old Town, and die the happier: since I am patient! If my pain submits, if I ever have any gold, shall I choose the ...

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Friends by Arthur Rimbaud

Friends by Arthur Rimbaud

Come, the Wines are off to the seaside, and the waves by the million! Look at wild Bitter rolling from the mountain tops! Let us reach, like good pilgrims, green-pillared ...

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The Soul by Arthur Rimbaud

The Soul by Arthur Rimbaud

Eternal Undines, split the pure water. Venus, sister of azure, stir up the clear wave. Wandering Jews of Norway, tell me of snow; old beloved exiles tell me of the sea. Myself: ...

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Song Of The Highest Tower by Arthur Rimbaud

Song Of The Highest Tower by Arthur Rimbaud

Idle youth Enslaved to everything, By being too sensitive I have wasted my life. Ah ! Let the time come When hearts are enamoured. I said to myself : let be, And let no one see ...

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Pleasant Thought For The Morning by Arthur Rimbaud

Pleasant Thought For The Morning by Arthur Rimbaud

At four o'clock on a summer morning, The Sleep of love still lasts. Under the spinneys the dawn disperses scents Of the festive night. But down there in the huge workshop Near the ...

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